I Am The Brain
by SylviaW1991
Summary: How a little field mouse became a genius bent on global domination! Incorporates information from the episodes Snowball and Project B.R.A.I.N. No original characters. All about The Brain! NEW! Updated with Pinky's origins, too.
1. I Am The Brain

So I recently watched the _Pinky and the Brain_ series and was a little thrown-off by the multiple origin stories for Brain. I realize that it's a cartoon and all, but I like consistency! Luckily, I also like puzzles and creating my own head-canon XD

Which is what I've done here. Collected the information from a few episodes and turned them into a coherent (at least for me) story for The Brain that incorporates what was given to us as well as some extras I threw in to explain some of his behavior towards Pinky.

Un-beta'd so all mistakes are due to my idiocy! Also, _Pinky and the Brain_ aren't mine or they never would've had to put up with Elmyra. And there would've been an episode in which they got married. Because... well. They had a _kid_ and the episode was called _Brinky_. Plus they're shown more than once sleeping together. How much more evidence do you people need?

Anyway, my slashy views aside XD

Enjoy!

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><p>He was a baby when he was taken. Just a week or two old, free to frolic about the field with the other field mice. He and his parents lived in a tin can that had an image on the side that he couldn't identify and truly didn't care overmuch about. He just knew that he loved the field, loved the other mice, loved his parents!<p>

And that he hated the cage, hated the beings with tall legs and removable fur. The first time he'd seen one remove a long thing of white, he'd been horrified to see another layer of darker fur beneath. _He_ didn't have such an odd fur pattern and neither did anyone else he knew. He hated the other mouse in his cage, too. He was taller, slimmer, and often had tears in his eyes. And he didn't smell of the field; he smelled... sterilized and liked to squeak about his parents and his sister. He didn't want to hear about anyone else's family! Not when he was so severely missing his own...

He decided to ignore the ineffectual animal and stalked to the far side of his cage, ignoring the long-legged beings as they made noises beyond his comprehension. But it was there that he first met the hamster, the one he soon figured out was called Snowball. It was the first word he learned to recognize as he and Snowball spent as much time together as they possibly could with the cage separating them. They made faces at one another and Snowball would laugh. They would run mazes, finding one another much sooner than they ever did the treats at the end. They would fall asleep curled at the far side of their cage, hands stretched out from between the bars, fingers touching.

He had never known such a friend, and it was such a comforting presence in the face of lost parents, lost childhood. And he was happy again, the can he'd been born in a faded memory.

He was hardly three months old when the happiness was wrenched from him again. It was a toy car, something in its steering going highly wrong. The little mouse didn't know what; he only knew the pain. Everything seemed shattered, broken, and he and Snowball would normally have been put to sleep then and there, but there was another man who said that he was working on a machine that could help.

And so mouse and hamster went through the untested and incomplete gene-splicer. For the mouse came healing, a wrench of pain that seemed small compared to all that he'd endured since the crash. When he lifted weary hands to his head, he'd discovered that it had gotten larger. He rose unsteadily, looking about warily. The explosion occurred then, sending him right back off his feet.

_Snowball!_ The thought formed in his mind, made him dizzy. _My friend!_ followed it and caused just as bad a throb as newly formed, entirely unused synapses began to awaken in his enlarged brain. He was thankful, though, when he caught sight of his dear friend. He ran to Snowball on unsteady legs, collapsing to his knees before him, fingers curling into his fur. He began a very gentle examination, searching for any injuries beyond the mildly singed fur and enlarged cranium, but Snowball waved him off.

"Oh, stop it," he muttered. "I'm perfectly al... right..." Snowball and the mouse blinked at one another several times before it dawned on Snowball what had occurred. "The _machine_! It worked!" He leapt to his feet, leaving the mouse staring up at him in awe. "Oh, it _more_ than worked! Can you believe it? We can talk!"

The mouse opened his mouth, but only a confused squeak came out. He tried again, managed a grunt. The new machine hadn't worked entirely, had given him an ability to understand and process the words but not speak them. He understood the printed letters on the sides of nearby books, but it took him several, long moments to slowly sound out the words in his mind. Snowball rattled them off with such an enviable ease; the mouse could only smile warmly at him. Proudly. His friend, he reflected, had been given such incredible intelligence. Why... why they could do _anything_ they wanted to do!

When, scowling, Snowball walked off, the mouse happily followed as he so often did. But Snowball didn't want to do the things they normally did, choosing instead to gaze at a globe that was on one of the countertops. He would stare irritably at the mouse when his attempts at conversation were met with nonsensical grunts and squeaks, attempts at a language Snowball didn't seem to understand any longer.

And that night, his dreams were full of the image that had once been on the side of a can in a field, an image he now recognized as the world. The _globe_! He was in the can, but didn't recognize it for the safety as it was. He had other ideas, other interpretations.

When he awoke the next morning, he knew what needed to be done. He waved his arms, jumping excitedly in place. For the first time in the mouse's memory, Snowball hadn't slept against his side of the cage. Even as the mouse recognized the oddities of this, the slowly growing synapses of his mind continued to struggle and couldn't quite explain why. He didn't understand that the unfinished machine had malfunctioned with him and with Snowball. With him, it had left the splicing incomplete. With Snowball, it had formed a darkness. Intelligence, in his case, had come at a price and he now considered the mouse beneath his notice. The little couldn't even _speak_!

But the mouse persisted and squeaked and called out in a wordless cry and Snowball that maybe, _maybe_ the mouse would be able to speak if given the proper instruction. And then he would have a minion. His first minion. Snowball smiled. How delightful.

What was more delightful was the mouse's plan. Snowball realized quickly that, while unable to speak and unable to do math without some sort of calculator present, his old friend had been given an impressive mind. He drew quickly on a large sheet of blueprints, drew the world to scale with a giant bottle of super glue. With the calculations and scribbling before him, Snowball began to understand what the mouse couldn't articulate.

Global domination. How... marvelous. "Wonderful," he breathed and it was almost a growl. The mouse gave him a surprised look that was brushed away. "This is wonderful. Did you think of this on your own?"

It was answered with a squeak and several excited bobs of his head. Snowball decided to only be mildly annoyed at the lack of proper English.

By the end of the day he was more than mildly annoyed and, while the two were in their cages, he began lessons. The mouse _would_ speak, if it were the last thing Snowball ever did.

"Neolithic!" he snapped. "Say it!"

"Nnnn... neeee... nnnn..." The mouse tried, struggled until his throat hurt. Finally Snowball gave a huff of breath and turned away to sleep on a bed of straw he'd formed the day before.

The mouse decided that it was an excellent idea and had done the same. He'd been shocked when his taller cagemate had pushed over more straw with hopeful, wide blue eyes. It was easy for him to forget that he even _had_ a cagemate and this one was... well... hopeless. But the smaller mouse sighed and forged a bed for him nearby before dropping onto his own.

"Nnn," he tried again and again and again. "Nnnn-_narf!_" He rolled the word around his tongue, said it again. "Narf." He'd spoken. He'd spoken! He didn't know what it was, of course, but thought that Snowball might know. Snowball could speak already. Surely this was just a word he didn't know?

"Narf," he said again and rolled onto his stomach to sleep. He didn't see his cagemate watching him quietly, long tail beating against the floor like a happy dog's.

It turned out that "narf" wasn't a word. It wasn't anything. It was a failure, but it was all he could say when confronted with a word beginning with "n." "N-narf," he stuttered and Snowball rubbed a hand over his face.

"No! We'll try something _else_! Something simple. _Point_."

"P-p-p-p-p-p-p-"

"Oh, _enough_!" Snowball walked away, somehow freeing himself from his cage. The other mouse didn't quite see how he had done it, so curled up in his straw bed and tried to say "point" while his cagemate ran wildly on the wheel. He was still watching.

"P-p-p-p-p-poit! Poit. Poit, poit, poit. _Poit_." He ran to the side of the cage, looked around wildly. "Poit!" he shouted, hoping Snowball would hear. "Narf! Narf! Poit!"

"What on _earth_ is that disturbing racket?" Snowball came into view and the mouse smiled and curled his fingers around the bars of his cage.

"Poit."

"_No_, you imbecile! _Point_."

The mouse wanted to cry. "Poit?" But the hamster disappeared again, leaving his friend to sink down and wait. More words followed as he muttered to himself, joining the ranks of narf and poit in the nonsense that he could articulate. It never occurred to him, though, that his cagemate was listening. If Snowball was the first word the small mouse had learned, narf was the first the tall one did. With poit, zort, and troz following after. And he was absolutely amazed by the smaller mouse's ability to say these things while the one actually speaking internalized them as irritable nonsense. _Narf, indeed_ his mind said.

Over the next several days, he tried hard to impress his friend with plots for world domination. Snowball would snatch the blueprints away at the end of each day and storm back to his own cage while the mouse would try and narf and poit his questions, seeking approval. His friend was gone. The mouse was having difficulty accepting or even processing the loss.

And then came the day that his incessant narfs grew to be too much for the hamster. With a howl of rage, he brought a pen down hard on the mouse's still-forming brain. It still hadn't quite grown to fit his enlarged skull and that blow halted its growth entirely. And, in some ways, reverted it.

The narfs and poits, zorts and trozs, grew entirely silent and the mouse could no longer even understand when his friend spoke. Enraged by this unforseen consequence, Snowball went on a rampage so noticeable that the usual blind scientists noticed and threw the hamster into the wild, no idea as to what they had just unleashed upon the world.

With his only friend gone, with a mind that had forgotten English and global domination, the mouse grew bitter. He began to bop his cagemate on the head in the hopes of inflicting as much pain on the tall mouse and had been inflicted upon him. He bit the fingers of humans, growled at other mice and animals, and was soon avoided by all. Even the cat - Precious - who mysteriously disappeared one day.

He was just over nine months old when a new duo was introduced to Acme Labs. Colleagues of the original doctor who had invented the gene splicer, these two were assigned Project B.R.A.I.N. They were charged with selecting two candidates to test this new version of the splicer, this time on two lab mice. Uninjured ones.

They chose the two cagemates. The smaller one for his enlarged cranium and vicious attitude, the taller one due to extreme stupidity. But the smaller one didn't want to do it. While the machine was a little different than it had been before, it was still not something he wanted to do. He'd been resistant to all of their experiments as of late, even though he could understand them even less than he'd been able to before. His memory of Snowball's disappearance was warped, seemed incredibly sudden. He could no longer even recall his brief periods of speech. Part of him wanted to insist that the dismissal of his friend had been in error, but he was just aware enough to remember that his friend hadn't been kind to him.

Lost in his thoughts, the mouse didn't quite notice when he and his taller cagemate went through the gene-splicer. And, while going through the splicer a second time should have ruined his mind and reverted him to his original state, the halted synapses were instead jump-started again.

They formed quickly, more rapidly than he'd been prepared for. He threw his head back and howled his pain. His cagemate put his feet in his mouth and giggled. This machine, this attempted gene-splicer was incomparable to the original. These scientists weren't the first, after all, only his friends. They had missed a step or two in the building process.

So while the smaller mouse's transformation was finally completed, the taller one only received certain gifts, baffling ones that he didn't have the mental stability to explain or even talk about. Realizing that he could make things float, though, had been cause for extreme delight until it had disappeared again. The one time the small mouse saw it, his only explanation had been, "Comes and goes."

But now, just after their transformation, the two were in their cage and the small mouse realized that he was... he was _speaking_! "I am... _The_ Brain!" he exclaimed excitedly and could hardly believe it.

He had a wealth of intelligence now, but when Pinky - for the inane creature had decided to answer to the silly word when Brain had spoken it - proclaimed his narfs to the world, Brain felt the urge to bop him over the head. He couldn't have explained why, but the word drove him mad. The word that was not a word that had no explanation.

It only caused Pinky to laugh delightedly and soon, in him, The Brain discovered a new friend. And this one didn't leave when he failed. This one helped when asked, even when not. He knew when to wake Brain from a nightmare; he knew when to lift him into a big hug (though Pinky developed a tendency to do that for just about any reason); he just... knew.

So it was with Pinky that Brain attempted, night after night, to gain control over the world. The can was forgotten, his original plots were forgotten, his love of Snowball was forgotten. There was only Pinky and, when the mice ran into Snowball just a bit before Brain's second birthday, Brain was overcome with the possibility that Pinky might leave him as Snowball had done.

He nearly did, but when he came back Brain vowed to never let Pinky leave again. He needed his friend. He needed _a_ friend. And Pinky, for all his faults, softened the hurt Brain had lived with for most of his life and offered him a permanence.

Night after night. Day after day. They were always Pinky and the Brain. And, though he'd never admit it aloud for fear of rejection, nothing mattered more to the small mouse than that.

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><p>So there. My head-canon for Brain. And Snowball and Pinky, I suppose XD<p>

I can't quite remember all the episodes this information came from, but I do know _Snowball_ and _Project B.R.A.I.N. _were the main two.


	2. I am  NARF!  Pinky

I couldn't resist writing a little companion piece for Pinky, who's virtually impossible for me to write for XD

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><p>He loved home! He loved it! He had his mum and his dad and his sis and they played and had fun and did all sorts of things together! He was hugged all the time, groomed carefully by his mummy. And then his parents would run around in a game he'd learn was called "Chase Me!" Such fun.<p>

He had a water bottle and food pellets and a fun-fun silly-willy wheel that his dad taught him to use. Makes mice big and strong, even though he was a bit shorter than mum. His developing mind taught him that mummies were, therefore, taller than daddies but that didn't matter. They loved each other. He knew it and he could feel it.

And then they were taken away. First dad then mum and then him. He wasn't ready to go, though! Only two and a half weeks and he was being separated from all the things he'd ever known or loved! No, wait, Mr. Man! I'm waiting for mummy and daddy to come home! Sis needs me!

The cage wasn't bad at this new place. He had a water bottle and food pellets and a fun-fun silly-willy wheel that he always used. Makes mice big and strong. He ran on it constantly that first day, trying to run to his parents and his sis back at the pet store. The people in their long white coats didn't scare him; he was used to people.

And when a little mouse with a big chubby head was settled in his cage, the little mouse gave him a happy wave. He was used to other mice.

But this one didn't seem to like him, would nip at him if he got too close, and didn't listen when he was missing his family. The chubby-head mousey wasn't nice at all, so the storebought mouse ran and ran on his wheel while the chubby mouse made friends with the hamster in the other cage. He grew slimmer and tall like his mum had been as the time passed, not paying overmuch attention to his cagemate and the hamster.

He didn't much like the hamster, which was a feeling the young mouse wasn't very accustomed to feeling at all. It was much better not to pay attention to them at all than feel dislike. It was a nasty sort of feeling.

And he didn't really like the scary-wary mazes either. The walls were so high, he couldn't see over them. But the smell of moldy cheese - oh, he did love his cheeses - always drove him forward. He never got to the end, though. The smell would fade and the big tall walls were very hard to break through. He would usually just run into one over and over again until one of the humans plucked him out and put him back in his cage with the meanie mousey.

When he was three months old (maybe; he couldn't count yet), the meanie mousey got hurt awfully badly. He had band-aids wrapped all around him and he wasn't moving so good. The little mouse tried to give him nuzzles to make him feel better, but it didn't work so good and meanie mousey was gone the next day for a very long time.

He sat on the edge of the cage, attempting to have a very nice conversation with his hamster friend. Oh, he was squeaking the nicest squeaks and grunting such lovely grunts. But the hamster spoke the same way humans did and that was confusing and the tone wasn't very nice at all. Chubby mousey (because he couldn't be very mean if he made such nice sounds) slept closer to him than ever before that night and woke up first, jumping around and waving his arms and making the happiest sounds ever.

The taller of the two cagemates happily wiggled his tail in response to the squeaks and squeals, even though the hamster looked awfully annoyed, and ran on his wheel while they went onto the countertops.

And that night, even _more_ amazing things happened with the chubby mousey! He said stuff! Oh, the sound just made him all kinds of happy! It bubbled in his tummy and tickled his ears and he was so _proud_ to be sharing the cage with such a smarty!

He was even prouder when chubby-smarty-mousey made a little bed out of straw. He was so impressed and so hopeful at having such a warm-looking place for himself that he gathered all the straw he could find and pushed it towards his cagemate. Chubby mousey frowned at him and made grumbly noises, but the mouse was so excited about whatever was happening that the grumbly noises made him giggle. And then he gave an excited squeal when his own bed was forged near chubby mousey's new bed.

He snuggled down onto it immediately after lifting the chubby mousey up and spinning him around until he'd been swatted at and pushed away.

That's when the saying stuff happened. "Nnn," happened again and again and again. "Nnnn-_narf!_ Narf."

_Narf_. Tail beating the floor like a dogs, the taller mouse watched his cagemate roll over onto his chubby tummy to sleep. Narf narf narf! Oh, such a smarty! He wished he could say happy words like that because his cagemate did look so happy when he said it! Narf! Narf!

It took him an awfully long time to sleep after that, so that when he woke up his smarty cagemate was standing at the edge of their cage and saying the new happy word to his hamster. But hamster didn't seem happy at the word. He looked mad and was saying mad words back to his smarty cagemate. "N-narf."

After more yelling, the hamster ran away and the chubby mouse was left stuttering. "P-p-p-p-p-p-p-" The taller mouse climbed up on his wheel, running wildly on it while the chubby mouse curled up on his straw bed and stuttered his "p"s.

But then there was a new happy word! Poit! He said it again and again, running to the side of his cage. "Narf! Narf! Poit!" So poit came after narf. Tail wagging, blue eyes big and curious and so very gleeful, the taller mouse watched the hamster come back into view. But his tail stopped wagging when his cagemate became sad. The hamster yelled more and ran away and the chubby mousey slid down to the floor and began to mutter his narfs and poits and other silly sounds.

He didn't even get happy when he started to say other fun things! Troz and zort and poit and narf! And happy, happy, happy! He was amazed by his ability to speak such joyful things, but his cagemate wasn't happy anymore. It was very sad.

But what was sadder was when the new words went away. The taller mouse didn't know what happened, but his cagemate ran into their cage with frightened sounds and the hamster began to break things. Glass crashed, metal was thrown... And it was so very loud that the taller mouse just covered his cagemate's ears since he was too busy whimpering to do it himself and flattened his own against his head. He was awfully glad when the hamster was taken away, but was deeply saddened when his cagemate pushed him away and went to his bed to curl up and cry.

There weren't any more new words, but the taller mouse held them in his head and in his heart. His cagemate was still a smarty, even though he was also becoming a meanie again. His fun-fun sounds were gone and he began to give him blows to the head. They didn't hurt all that much, and they seemed to make his cagemate feel better. So everytime he was struck, he would make happy sounds and his cagemate would storm away.

The taller mouse just spent his days running through mazes (or at least running into the walls of them) or running on his wheel and thinking the words that had once made his chubby cagemate so happy for such a brief time.

When two new scientists came, he was just about nine months old. There was much talk about Project B.R.A.I.N and, even though the words they spoke seemed blurred and the written things on their big paper just seemed like really bad drawings, the taller mouse was excited when he was picked. Oh, the experiments were just so much fun and he got to be held when they were taken from their cage! He loved being held, nuzzled against whoever's hand it was. It reminded him of mum and dad and when the humans with their long pretty hair had him, sometimes they'd coo and make little nonsense sounds that just made him happier.

When he and his cagemate - who didn't like to be held at all - were dropped onto a conveyor belt, the tall mouse just looked around with wide blue eyes. It started to move and he gave a single surprised squeak before spinning in circles. They went through a very dark tunnel and something in his head happened that made him stop and fall back. His eyes squeezed shut very tightly for a moment throughout the strange somethings that were occurring.

When it passed, his cagemate through his head back and gave a howl of pain. The other mouse was so lost in the whirly-twirly sensations in his head that he stuck his feet in his mouth and giggled. Once back in their cage, he discovered that he could lift the pencils and pens in a nearby cup by concentrating really hard and spinning his finger around. But concentrating was difficult so he quickly stopped doing that. It was amazing, though, that he knew that the things were called pens and pencils and the carrier they were in was a cup.

He didn't dwell on the knowledge he'd picked up because a pencil and little funny book was dropped into their cage with them. The taller mouse gasped and ran to it, flipping it open excitedly. There were lots of squares, some of them black and some not. With some idea of making all the squares black so they could be even, he instead discovered an endless fascination with the pink at the end of the pencil. He gave a nibble, found it to be delicious, and began to chew and nibble in earnest.

As the day wore on, though, his cagemate seemed even more irritable and quieter than usual. The mouse wondered why, locating his wheel and running on it happily. He forgot all about it almost instantly until he saw the chubby meany mousey standing at the edge of the cage.

The happy sounds! "_Narf_!" he announced and fell off the wheel entirely. He landed in a heap, giggled quietly to himself. But he'd said narf like a smarty and everything! He looked to his cagemate, who was saying _more_ words! Egad, that was brilliant!

"Look at these _ridiculous_ calculations." The taller mouse did look, endlessly fascinated that the blurry squiggles weren't very blurry anymore. They were still squiggles, but a part of him (easily dismissed) recognized them as letters. But not letters that you send in the mailbox. And how did they get from one mailbox to the next? Were the mailboxes fancy portals that led to other mailboxes? How did the letters know which mailboxes to go to? Were they magical?

"-pinky!" the chubby mouse exclaimed, though he'd been ranting about something else entirely. But the taller mouse heard that word, so took a step towards his cagemate.

"Yes?"

"What?"

He pointed at himself. "You called my name." He wiggled the proper finger, shutting one eye in order to see it clearly. "Pinky."

"I did? Tell me, for curiosity's sake, how exactly do you _know_ that's your name?"

"Um... Well, I answered, didn't I? _Narf!_" The exclamation seemed to come out on its own, completely unbidden and unexpected. So he laughed and went to his cagemate, grabbing his head. "Oh, that was fun-fun-fun! Okay, let me guess your name!" Because it was now decided that everything needed a name. Narf was good and he'd said it after coming up with his own name, so... "Is iiiiit... Rumple-frown-face?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We can't name ourselves!" Rumple-frown-face pushed away and took several steps away. "We don't have the requisite cerebral capa- Wait just a moment. Yes!" He continued on, coming to some sort of conclusion that seemed to agree.

But Pinky had found some string and hadn't really been listening. "Well, there you go then. _Poit_." Oh! He'd said another smarty word! While he was busy being gleeful over that, Rumple-frown-face changed his name to The Brain, which was just as good! And much easier to say. Poit.

And now that they both had names, they could be the best of friends! And they _were_! Brain still bopped him on the head, but his convinction to enjoy it before seemed to have carried over and cemented somehow through the splicing. The bops were fun-fun silly-willy and they made Brain happy too!

Oh, they had so much fun all the time! Even though Brain had never let him call him Rumple-sizzle-head or Rumple-frown-face. There were lots of rules to follow, but Brain didn't always get mad when he didn't follow them anyway. Every night, they went to the best of places all so Brain could take over the world! Their cage was home now, more than it ever had been before, and when they returned to it night after night (even if there were owies involved after the plan failed), Pinky was always happy. Their beds were slowly pushed closer and closer together (mostly by Pinky), and they eventually slept side-by-side by habit. And it was so wonderfully nice to have a friend like that!

A bestest best friend who was the best! Pinky had decided very quickly to do everything he could to help his cagemate in everything he wanted to do because it was just like having family again! Brain was his family! And family stuck together forever and ever!

Pinky plucked Brain up and hugged him tightly, twirling around in happy circles. Pinky and the Brain! Together forever and ever! Hoorah! _Narf!_


End file.
